


Language Lessons

by ZXI



Series: many voices telling a story [6]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: M/M, Trashy Romance Novels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 00:47:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5607316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZXI/pseuds/ZXI
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Percy has a secret or two, but these ones aren't going to hurt anyone but perhaps his own pride.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Language Lessons

This isn't working.

Percy shuts the book in front of him with a hefty thud and a light plume of dust. Old leather and gold-leaf scrolling identify it as as an Elvish-to-common dictionary, and a valuable one at that, one that Gilmore had happened to have in stock from an auction lot that had been mostly old books on the arcane arts. Its a beautiful book, but still. "Should have paid attention, kid," Percy mutters to the empty dining room.

"Paid attention to what?" Or maybe not so empty. Keyleth steps up beside him with a plate of cut fruits and vegetables and sits down next to him. "Oooh, are you learning Elvish, Percy?"

Percy spies a halved avocado and a second fork. "Can I have some?" Keyleth nods. "Thanks." He takes the avocado and starts running the fork through the meat of it, chunking it enough to eat easily. "I used to be quite fluent as a child. My parents had a library full of Elvish literature, and I was quite the bookworm, but I havent spoken the language since I went out on my own." Mostly, because he hadn't needed to. Two years were spent on ships run mostly by humans speaking Common and a short time traveling and staying at different churches had kept him up on Celestial, but Elvish had been left to the wayside. He takes a bite of avocado, pauses, then finds the salt shaker and sprinkles it on the rest. Much better.

"What made you start again?" Keylith sticks a few berries on her fork and nibbles. She appears genuinely interested.

Percy pauses for a good ten seconds before he speaks again, "With how much Uriel seems to be building up trade with Syngorn, I thought it might be the time to brush up a bit. The Ambassador will probably come through soon enough and I'm sure that the twins would appreciate another Elvish-speaking political adept." Again, he pauses for a thought. "No offense."

"None taken," Keylith replies pleasantly, "I'm glad of it, actually. Their dad gave me chills last time. I could help you re-learn the language though." She nods to herself, pops the last strawberry into her mouth, leans back to face him, and swallows. Something about her countenance has shifted, become just a little more serious. "Say something in Elvish. Anything." Percy does, stumbling over words that he hopes are from one of his old favorite plays, but doesn't do well judging by the way Keylith scrunches her nose. "'Which sunlight softly...' No, that was terrible. Your accent is horrid. You weren't kidding."

"I think that's the harshest thing you've ever said to anyone." Percy scrapes the last bit of avocado meat from the shell and puts it aside. "I'm sure you're right. I could really use your help."

Keyleth giggles just a little, "Yeah, you do. We can start after dinner."

.

They do, indeed, start after dinner. Keyleth meets him in the War Room that the party rarely uses, with a stack of books of varying thicknesses and ages, looking pleased with herself. "I didn't think to ask what you like to read until after I got to the bookstore," she admits, "So I got a lot of different things. Start reading out loud." 

Keyleth is a better teacher than he would have expected, actually. She's very no nonsense. She found a well of red ink and his first few translations are almost more red ink than black after she gets done with them. His readings are one sentence at a time, with Keyleth repeating things back correctly, sometimes two or three times. It would be a lie to say he wasn't frustrated, but Keyleth seems to think he's doing better.

During meals, Percy finds he's catching more of what Vex and Vax bicker about. Some of it is total gibberish, twinnish, and mostly it's about whatever was the most recent stupid thing Vax went and did this time.

Once, Vex mentions something about Gilmore, and Vax blushes and rapid fires back in twinnish. Vex leans back, apparently satisfied.

In a few weeks of this, it gets to the point where they're working on his accent more than anything, and even Keyleth admits that his accent is a basically normal human one at this point, mostly acceptable. The few times he heads over to Gilmore's shop for whatever material, he begins conversing with Sheri in elvish after she asks about his sudden interest in old Elvish - language plays when they have the Common translations right there.

When he explains, she nods in approval and says in Elvish, "Well, I'm a fan of the originals myself. There are some things Common cannot express with precision."

"I'm of the same mind," Percy replies in kind, "If you have any recommendations, I'd love to hear them."

There is a glint in Sheri's eye suddenly. "Oh, well, I've read all the classics of course, but there is actually quite a bit of genre fiction that have been well recieved." She ducks behind the counter and digs out a bookmarked copy. The book is in Elvish; The title is one word that approximates to  'Quieter than silence'. "It's nothing trashy," Sheri promises, "but it's engaging and the dialogue is about as realistic as you can expect from the genre."

It's not a novel that would win any guild awards, and Percy never thought he would be a genre novel fan by any means, but not two days later he finds himself back at Gilmore's Glorious Goods looking for the sequel. Sheri is only too happy to provide.

.

Two weeks later, Percy finds himself meeting with Sheri at an open-air resturant over her lunch hour. It turns out that there is nearly twenty books in the series; they come out every two or three months, and the author is a local Emon resident, but nobody knows who they are. Sheri has a few ideas herself, but most people are content with the author remaining under a pseudonym. 

The books themselves are fairly short reads, printed small and fine enough to fit in a large pocket. The series shifts genres between each installment; some are romances, others thriller mysteries. There's a vague science/arcane fiction bent to the whole series, and the occasional glaring cliché, but it's become enough of a guilty pleasure that Percy purchases a Bag of Holding specifically to hide them in. He's taken to putting that bag inside a less-magical bag and leaving the keep for a few hours each day, occasionally finding lunch with Sheri. 

He gets in trouble, finally, just after Sheri leaves the cafe they're at. The most recent novel in the series had been a wild ride by anyone's summation, and Sheri is quick to become enthusiastic. Percy finds it infectious, and by the end of their lunch that they are huddled around the same side of the table, pointing at different passages and sharing their insights. Sheri is sharper than he suspects most give her credit for, spotting paralells and making connnections that Percy had missed. "I hate to leave," she says as she gathers her things, "but Gilmore's a fan of punctuality."

They agree to meet again in a few days, and Percy is left to gather his thoughts before heading home. He's finishing his coffee, looking out to where he can see the gardens of the Erudite Quarter and the many patrons milling about.

"Percival de Rolo, I can't believe you didn't tell us you've been seeing Sheri." Percy jumps; Soft-spoken Pike, of all people, has managed to sneak up on him, hopping up on the seat where Sheri had sat at one point and letting her feet swing. He finds it a little strange to see her wearing a light cotton tunic and trousers, as opposed to the normal silvery plate armor. Her smile, bright as the sun, remains unchanged.

Percy rolls his eyes. "It's nothing so complicated. We've had a friendly lunch a few times." 

"Well, that's nice too. Sheri's just so lovely." Pike looks at what's left of their lunch - and spies the book left out on the table. "Oh, I love this series. I've been reading the Common translation. I always thought you were into more serious fiction, though, Percy?"

Percy blinks. "I. Well. Sheri introduced me to them. To work on my Elvish." It's hard not to trust Pike; to the others, he might make the excuse that it was Sheri's, but to Pike he's compelled to speak honestly.

Pike beams like a proud mother and picks up the book, flipping through with mild interest. "Oh, that's brilliant. Can I borrow this, then? I want to see how they differ."

That's not quite what Percy was expecting. "I suppose?" He's pretty sure that Pike doesn't speak Elvish, but he's not sure what the harm could really be.

.

As it turns out, the harm is Vax'ildan. Pike was probably reading the Elvish language copy in the open, Vax saw, asked, and Pike answered honestly. Percy can't blame her; she's sweet, she's nice, she probably didn't realize that Vax would make his way down immediately to the shop with the express intention of poking fun at Percy.

He’s hammering out a sheet of metal when he hears over his shoulder, in Elvish, _“Well, master of the craft, it seems I have discovered your darkest secret. And what a thing it is.”_ Percy starts, turns to face the door. Vax is leaning against the heavy iron door he’s apparently shut behind him. It’s a quote from near the end of the first novel, after the mystery has been solved. Judging by the smirk painted across Vax’s face, that’s the intention.

Well, two can play at that game.  Continuing to hammer on the metal sheet, he dredges up the next line; _“You’ve discovered nothing, a surface fact that makes you no more knowledgeable of me than any three people on the street.”_ It’s the reply from the disinterested heroine, and also quite true under the circumstance. In the book, the secret mentioned is the heroine’s power as a sorcerer. Quite dramatic in comparison to an affection for a popular novel series.

“I can’t believe you’re into bodice-rippers,” Vax says this in common, and he’s chuckling.

Percy rolls his eyes. “I’m not, and the books I assume you’re referring to are not so ridiculous.”

Vax is laughing just a little harder. “They are though, that’s the thing! As far as society cares, this is the kind of stuff one’s lonely aunt might have on her nightstand.”

Percy stops with the metal sheet, douses it, turns to face Vax properly. “Well, what about you?” He asks. He’s irritated now. “You’ve clearly read at least one.”

“I read the first four when they were new.” Vax shifts uncomfortably. Percy figures he’s hit a button. Yes. Excellent. “I was, what, twenty?”

Percy rolls his eyes with the sort of intentional dramatics he didn’t normally bother with. _“Darling, if you don’t mind me saying, please remove your head from your arse. There are worse things in the world.”_ That one isn’t a quote - it mostly comes from Percy feeling a bit of salt and vinegar.

There’s a subtle grin on Vax’ildan’s face that is just a tad unnerving. “Did you just call me ‘ _darling?’”_ Percy blanks. Yes, yes he did. Dammit. Of course that would be the thing he hangs on to. When he doesn’t answer, the grin grows wider. _“Dear. Precious **. Babe.”**_

 _“Be silent, before I stich your mouth shut myself,”_ Percy huffs, turns away. He thinks that maybe if he ignores Vax, the half-elf would leave him alone, but he also knows that his luck outside of battle is rarely that good.

 _“Oh, come now Percival,”_ It’s odd to hear his name in the rhythm that comes with the Elvish language. Vax comes up behind him and wraps an arm around his waist, _“I’m only poking fun.”_

 _“You’ve annoyed me,”_ Percy is swiftly finding it harder to remain irritated, but hell if he isn’t trying. _“Honey.”_

The other arm comes around. Percy could probably break the hold if he tried, but he doesn’t. Vax is resting his chin on Percy’s shoulder, breath cool compared to the heat of the workshop. _“Treasured one, don’t be so serious.”_ A kiss is pressed to his temple. _“I wasn’t trying to anger you.”_ Percy can’t help but roll his eyes. _“Please say something?”_

 _“That is possibly the lamest pet name I’ve ever heard.”_ Percy says sharply.

He can feel Vax shrug behind him, _“It’s a pretty common one if you’re from Syngorn.”_

It strikes Percy, then, that he’s been speaking Elvish for this whole conversation. He’s a little impressed with himself, actually. _“Save it for Syngorn, then.”_

 _“I don’t think I will,”_ Vax pauses, “ _is this how you learned Elvish?”_

_“Technically I learned some as a child, but I haven’t been in practice since I was an adolescent.”_

_“You should practice more often.”_

“ _Right. Well, right now I have work to do.”_ Percy pulls away finally, turning in Vax’s arms to face him. Vax’ildan is still three annoying inches taller than him and grinning like a man who suddenly possesses great power. It’s a bit unnerving. “You’re going to catch that cloak of yours alight if you stick around much longer.” When Vax doesn’t reply, except to grin wider, he says “I’m serious. Something’s liable to explode in a few minutes.”

Vax finally must get the hint, because he backs off, hands up in the universal rogue position of ‘you win,’ “Fine, then. I’l leave you be” And he does, or at least he turns to, before he paints a true fox grin upon his face and says, “Oh, and Percy? _You should speak Elvish more. It’s quite attractive._ ”

He doesn’t get a step before Percy stops him from leaving.


End file.
